It's a few minutes before midnight, before his birthday. Sawamura's last thoughts as a fifteen-year-old involve how a lot of things have changed in the span of a few months. Least of all is the circled out 15 on their calendar that he hasn't noticed until now—there's a barely legible scrawl below the number that he recognizes as Kuramochi's handwriting. It reads: Sawamura's Birthday. I expect all-you-can-eat pudding, Masuko-san. This makes him smile.

There are still times when he wishes Tokyo was more like home. A little less urban. He misses breathing air that didn't smell of smoke and dust, misses the nights when he'd sneak off to the foot of the nearby mountain with his childhood friends to collect various kinds of insects. Wakana was never one to let the boys outdo her, and she loved to catch fireflies in small glass jars, calling them her wishing stars.

"What do you wish for?" he had once asked her.

"You'd just laugh at me," she said, jar of flickering lights clutched tightly in her hands. It had been a full moon back then, and he only remembers this because Nobu had kept insisting they would encounter a monster. They never did (unless you count Nobu's sleep-deprived face the next morning).

"I won't!"

"Yes, you will! But fine, I'll tell you. I wish nights like this could last forever; that I could spend every day with you guys."

Just as she expected the boy burst out laughing. Looking back, Sawamura thinks he deserved to get hit for that. But the scowl on Wakana's face had vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a small, lingering smile. "Eijun, you're so silly," she said, whispering something into the jar that he vaguely remembers as "I wish you'll never change."

This was back when they were still kids who hardly knew of life outside Nagano. Now they're all too old to do something like that, but Eijun will admit to himself (and only himself) that sometimes he wishes he could go back home, catch beetles, and place bets with his friends on which one would win in a fight. Those were the days.

-o-o-o-

Sawamura watches the hands of the clock line up at twelve and his phone rings at the promised time. He takes in the familiar number on the screen and clears his throat. "The number you dialled cannot be reached. Please try your call again later," he says in his best impersonation of a telephone operator.

"Very funny, Eijun." He smiles at the sound of Wakana's trademark sarcasm, slightly muffled by the drone of conversation behind her. Their other classmates. He closes his eyes and he could almost picture them. Nobu on the brink of tears—he's almost as big a crybaby as Sawamura is. Akio's mischievous smile, like he's always planning the next big prank in his head. Wakana looking at him as though she's about to scold him for something he hasn't done. Yet.

All of them are saying "Happy Birthday" out of sync. Total chaos. He misses this, too.

Wakana passes the phone around so everyone can get a turn to greet him. It takes considerable willpower to keep from breaking down into a crying, blubbering mess right there and then. It feels like a lifetime since he last heard them.

They put the phone on speaker mode and ask him to tell stories. How many games has he played, what kind of pitches has he learned, what sorts of people has he met. Sawamura is almost embarrassed to admit he isn't a proper member of the team yet, but what's even more embarrassing is the way his friends cheer him on.

"You'll get there, Ei-chan!"

"You're too dumb to know when to give up!"

"If all else fails slap them with the soul of Akagi Junior High!"

He has to remind himself he can't laugh too much lest he wake his roommates up.

He doesn't know when calling him "Hero-kun" became a running gag in their gang, and he's almost tempted to tell them to stop because it's really embarrassing, but it's also a reminder that he has something to work for, that he's shouldering their dreams as well as his. Besides, when they call him that, it makes him feel like he's capable of anything. Even Koushien.

"It's getting late guys," he tells them, almost regrets it too when there's nothing but awkward silence on the other line for a few moments. "I'm sorry. I want to keep talking but my body's really tired and…"

"No, it's okay," says Wakana's voice, sounding closer than it actually is. "We're the ones who should be saying sorry. I tried to tell these guys not to but they couldn't wait to greet you so—Eijun, just one last thing before you go."

"What?"

"We're at that place. The foot of the mountain we used to go to. You know the one."

"Mount Mushi-Mushi?"

One of the boys chimes in a little too loudly. "God, Ei-chan, you still call it that? You are such a kid."

"Shut up! I'll call it whatever I want to call it! And keep your voice down!"

"You're the one who's shouting, Hero-kun."

They erupt into a chorus of laughter.

"Same old Eijun. You never change, do you?" Wakana says, and in his mind he sees her smiling fondly. They're all smiling at him, and that's how he always wants to remember them. "We're catching fireflies—wishing stars—like we used to do back then. We're going to wish you luck in everything you do, but don't think you can slack off, you hear me?"

"Wishing stars?" he snorts. "Now who's the kid?"

Wakana lets out a groan as the others laugh. Sawamura's thankful she's far out of reach where she can't smack him on the head for that. "Just for that I'm going to wish you bad luck with girls until you graduate."

"No, that's too cruel, even for you! "

"What's that supposed to—" There's a rustling sound as the phone changes hands. "Hello? This is Nobu. Wakana's too busy blushing her head off to talk so I'm saying goodbye for her." Eijun has to smile at that because he can clearly hear her protesting in the background. They must be teasing her again."Remember, you're our hero."

"You're our hero!" the other voices echo.

And that's it. That triggered it. He's crying now, and Nobu's crying, and they're all crying because they're reliving that moment at the train station again. Sawamura curses because goddammit he's supposed to be their representative at Koushien, but he isn't even an official member of the team, and that catcher who called him "partner" won't even give him the time of day. He's hopeless but these guys still believe in him, and they're still placing him on a pedestal and calling him hero. What kind of hero is he if he's the one who needs saving?

"Sorry, this isn't the kind of birthday gift we want to give you. 'Night, Ei-chan. Happy birthday."


Sorry, I wrote this in one sitting and was scrambling to post it before May15 ended. I fail. OTL